


Beetles

by Merya



Series: Guilt and Solace [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Elvhen, Funny, Gen, June - Freeform, Nicknames, solas doesn't understand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:52:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merya/pseuds/Merya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas doesn't understand Varric's nickname for Sarah Trevelyan.<br/>Why on earth, would he name her after an elven god?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beetles

“So… June?”

Varric looked up from the letter he was writing, eyes squinting against the glare of the sun, to see Solas standing in front of him. His mouth twitched. “Yup. Seemed fitting.”

“You nicknamed her after an elven god?” Solas looked mystified. “Why?”

Varric sputtered, his eyes twinkling. “Why do you think?”

Recognizing that he was headed straight into a trap, Solas sighed and sat down on the bench across from Varric.

“It is not an elven god is it?”

Varric’s laugh rang out among the tents, drawing the attention of several by-passers, all hurrying along when Solas glared at them. He knew he had brought it upon himself, but he most certainly didn’t need an audience to this particular conversation.

“You never know Chuckles. What’s this June the god of anyway?” Varric seemed genuinely interested as he leaned forwards and rested his elbows on his knees. “I might've had divine guidance without even knowing it”. He winked at Solas, grinning widely.

Groaning inwardly at the situation, Solas resigned himself to explaining the nature of June to Varric. Or... Well, the nature of June as the elves saw him.

“In the time of Elvhenan, June was worshipped as the god of crafts. It was believed he taught the elvhen to create bows and arrows. To make pots and knives and fishing nets. To befriend the Halla and make their harnesses. Superstition of course. These things developed naturally. June might have been a being of superior power like the rest of the elvhen gods. I do not, however, actually believe them to be gods.” He waved his hand in a dismissal, hoping that what he had given the dwarf would be explanation enough. “So - why June?”

Varric was staring at him shrewdly. “You don't think they were gods? What d'you think this June character was, then?”

The elf looked away, his ears twitching nervously. Varric had never seen him look quite this uncomfortable, and he was intrigued. What was it about the old elvhen gods, that made Solas on edge?

“Ah. I am afraid I am not nearly as pious as our dalish elves. I would hate to take part in a philosophical discussion about theology, especially within hearing range of other elves,” he said, looking defeated and nodding towards two elven servants that hurried by. “But no. I don’t believe the elvhen gods were actually gods. Very powerful, magical creatures, certainly. But not gods to be revered. And I am certain, that whatever it was that made the elvhen worship June as the god of craft, it wasn’t his ability to craft a bow or a harness, but something much more important. Although what that might have been, I have no idea.”

Varric simply shrugged. “Well, sounds like our Herald all right. Creating bonds where none existed. Forging a hope from hopelessness. If that’s not crafting with a capital C, I don’t know what is. But no. That’s not why she’s a June”. Shaking his head and laughing he turned back towards his letter, picking up his quill. “Now shoo - I need to finish this letter to my publisher, telling him that I’m finally working on my next…” He was cut off by Solas’ hand on his wrist. “Why is she a June then?”

“Well, I’d have thought it was obvious?” Solas merely scowled at him.

“Maybe not.”

Chuckling, Varric put the quill back in the inkpot and turned back towards the elf. But before he could explain, a deep rumbling voice from behind him took the words right out of his mouth.

“She’s a beetle.” Iron bull settled himself on the bench next to Varric, looking mildly amused.

“She’s like one of those beetles that buzz around all summer. All shining black, hair changing colour in the sun. Fitting in with whatever crowd with ease. And she’s hardy as hell. Have you ever tried cracking one of those beetles between your palms?” he asked, a light chuckle escaping him. “They can’t be cracked. They’re hard as stone, won’t be destroyed, those beetles. Not even by a fade explosion. Apart from the Boss they were the only things left standing, or well, crawling as I understand it.” He eyed Solas under half lidded eyes. “It makes sense. She’s a June beetle.”

Solas nodded slowly. It did make sense. He eyed the herald, who was currently talking to some of the new recruits just out of earshot from Varric's table, laughing and joking with them, obviously making them feel at ease in their new surroundings. Her black hair glinting bluish in the sun. The herald who, not 3 hours ago, had joined the ambassador in a discussion with a few Orlesian nobles sympathetic to their cause, as if she had never done anything but discuss politics in her life. Standing to his feet, he nodded at Iron bull.

“Thank you for explaining. It does fit her.”

He turned on his feet, and made his exit, navigating the benches around Varric’s campfire and heading towards his usual hangout next to Flissa’s tavern.

Looking at the back of the retreating elf, Varric nudged the side of his remaining companion. “She eats like a June beetle too, Tiny. Eats everything she can get her hands on uncritically. You left that out of your explanation.”

“Well, yeah. He’s got to figure some of it out on his own doesn’t he?” Bull rumbled. “Far too clever for his own good that one. I also left out what she did to you when you called her “Beetle” for the first couple of weeks.”

Coughing, Varrics face turned completely red, and he had to clear his throat before his voice would work. “How do you even know about that?" he croacked. "She hadn’t even heard of you back then!”  

Iron Bull quirked a thumb at himself. “Ben-Hassrath, remember? It’s my job to know stuff. ‘Sides, Cassandra was eager to tell me. Our seeker almost laughed!”

Admitting the irony, Varric simply hung his head. “Well, with you being Ben-Hassrath and all, do you have any idea how she even got her hands on that many beetles? ‘Cause _I_ can’t for the life of me, figure it out!”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually embarrased at how much time I've spent contemplating Sarah's nickname. I just KNEW that she was a beetle, but WHICH beetle? Was she a scarab (no!), a ladybug (NO!) or something else?  
> I originally wanted to name her after the dung beetle (whish has a much prettier name in my own language) but, who wants to be called "Dung?"
> 
> So after a serious amount of googling around I came across the June beetle and just knew that Sarah was a "June" - the allegory fit perfectly, and just HAD to write something with a very confused Solas.


End file.
